Memories of a Sunken Ship
by Diana Prallon
Summary: Merlin could remember it well, and his body would still react to the memories mixed with the sounds coming from the bedroom. (Arthur-Gwen, Merlin-Gwen, S4 spoilers).


**Memories of a Sunken Ship**

There were all kinds of protocols surrounding the first night of a King's marriage – a whole ritual around the bedding of the bride, and even if Arthur had broken with tradition in marrying a commoner, he couldn't avoid everything.

Gwen – no, Queen Guinevere – had been assigned her own personal servant, a lively young thing named Elot. She and Merlin were inside the newlyweds antechamber, while the rest of court waited on the door for them to bring the proof that the marriage had been consummated.

The stone walls of the castle might be thick, but nothing could stop Merlin's mind eye, and the deep silence of the night brought murmurs and whispers back to him, causing him shivers. He could hear the wetness of deep kisses, and his memories came back to a time, so long ago now, in which Gwen had held his head and kissed him full of the lips for the first time.

He didn't think Arthur knew about that – or what happened in the following weeks. They hadn't tried to make it a secret, but it was private, the kind of thing Merlin didn't talk to his master about, and somehow he doubted Gwen would have said, especially after all the Lancelot fiasco.

But there had been a few other kisses – deep, passionate kisses, sloppy and wet, on hidden corridors. As he heard Arthur complaining about the fastening of his bride's gowns, he could remember his nervous hands treading through Gwen's dress, pulling bits open and freeing the skin for him to touch.

Merlin could hear Gwen's content sigh through the door, and remembered how she had done the same when his lips threaded around her neck and collarbone, how she had pulled him closer through the hair when his kisses had reached her nipples.

Arthur seemed to know what he was doing much better than Merlin had, back then, the rustling of fabric making clear that he was eager to undress his bride. Merlin hadn't known how to deal with such things, on that late afternoon that they had spent locked in his rooms while Arthur trained and Gaius attended on the lower town. It had been messy, but he could still remember how her skin shined when the sun kissed it, the imperfect beauty of her naked body, how she blushed while he smiled at the vision.

There was no doubts this time, but there had been with Merlin – when she stuttered that she had never done anything like that, that she was afraid, how he had told her he had never done it either, and that they could wait.

They didn't.

He wondered how Gwen would deal with it now – for there was no way that blood would be spotted on their bed when it had already been spilled over Merlin's bed, so many years ago. Surely she must have thought of something, anything, and even if she told Arthur about that afternoon, he would understand, wouldn't he? It had been a different time, long before he ever noticed her.

Merlin could remember it well, and his body would still react to the memories mixed with the sounds coming from the bedroom. He tried to keep very still, but Elot wasn't paying any attention to him, also enraptured by the sounds of their lovemaking.

Gwen didn't gasp, didn't tell him it was hurting. Arthur didn't come too soon, gasping and panting against her tight when he had only meant to pull out to avoid the pain. All happened as it was supposed to happen, unlike the old confusing memories that Merlin had.

It had been something innocent, and they laughed together at their clumsiness, still, Merlin had never felt so humiliated in his whole life, and couldn't help pushing her away slowly. She'd give him her sweetest smile, as if she understood all too well, and avoided him as much as she could. What should have marked something of a passion had served only to crush whatever feelings they might have had for each other in embarrassment – too much, too soon. They didn't really understand what it all meant.

Almost a couple weeks passed by before he could come to Gwen and tell her all how he had never noticed girls before, how he _couldn't_ just change that, how much had he wanted to, because she was worth it, and while she might have been a bit heartbroken over it, she accepted it as she accepted everything else, with her head help up and a steady friendship.

And then Lancelot had come, and everything had tumbled down for good. Merlin couldn't avoid to be a bit bitter over how easily Gwen had moved on, enchanted by Lancelot, but then again, his own heart would flutter when Lancelot smiled at him. He could understand, even if it hurt his ego a bit. Even later, there had been Arthur, the man he was supposed to protect and serve, but by then Merlin could feel nothing but joy – and just a bit of envy – about it. They were perfect for each other in ways that Merlin and Gwen had never been.

Still, he held his memories dearly, a treasure that he never thought of sharing, for it had been especial even if it hadn't been right. It was something that had tested them and made them stronger, loving each other more freely, trusting each other with everything.

Later that night, he'd help Arthur to dress again, he'd get the bed sheets to present the court, and he'd smile to Gwen lovingly. Maybe, if he was lucky, Gwaine would still be awake and around, ready to accompany Merlin for the rest of the night, with talking, drinking and tough love.

And soon all those memories would fade again to a secret place in his heart that belonged to no one but him and Gwen, a secret that he'd keep even after all others had been revealed.

It was theirs only to keep.


End file.
